I have heard hard polytheists come up with all sorts of words to distinguish their gods from Jungian archetypes. The gods, they say, are "real", "literal", "individual", "distinct", and "separate"; they are "persons", "beings", "entities", or "agents". The archetypes, it is implied, are none of these things.

I think much of this is based on a misunderstanding of the nature of the archetypes. In the next four posts, I want to talk about four terms that polytheists use to distinguish gods from archetypes: "real", "literal", "separate", and "agents".

Twelve Healing Stars is a yearlong project in cooperation with the Temple of Witchcraft that explores social justice through the lessons of the 12 Zodiac Signs. This is part 11.

It seemed like an ordinary day on the campus of the University of California, Irvine. Groups of students wandered about, some going to classes and others heading for a coffee and a sandwich after spending hours in a lecture hall. Yet something was different on the grounds outside the library. In the large, open space just on the edge of the campus’ beautiful green park, hundreds of brightly colored T-shirts had been strung up onto clotheslines. They hung there quietly, yet spoke loudly of pain, struggle, and triumph.

Some time ago, I was asked by a devotional polytheist what "Jungian polytheism" is. In this post, I'm going to try to answer that question without all the psychological jargon and Jung quotes that I usually fall back on.

For me, being Pagan means that I find the divine (1) in myself and (2) in the world around me. These are two aspects of my Paganism that I struggle to bring together: the Self-centric Paganism and the earth-centric Paganism. Anyway, "Jungian polytheism" is (mostly) part of the former, the part of my religion that locates the divine in myself.

Welcome back to Watery Wednesday, our weekly foray into news about the spiritual, religious, and cultural communities we all play a part in. This week we take a look at new in the Heathen community, including a recent bout of controversy in Iceland over one Heathen group's plans to build an official temple. Additionally, we've gathered a story about the Catholic Pope's declining relations with political conservatives in the United States as well as a piece about what it's like to grow up in an Alaskan Native community. All this and more for the Pagan News Beagle!

I composed the poem Man in Black ("Know him by the crow's feather in his cap") in my head while mowing the lawn. (Such is the life of a poet who works for a living.) It is based on an exchange traditional in witch lore; at this remove of time, alas, I no longer recall where I first learned it.

When the piece had taken shape, I went for pencil and paper to write it down.

Sure enough, there in the middle of the sidewalk (I'm almost tempted to say, of course) lay the long, shiny pinion feather of a crow.

We call the people of ancient Crete Minoans thanks to the whim of the archaeologist Sir Arthur Evans, the man who excavated Knossos over a century ago. He knew the Hellenic Greek myth of King Minos of Crete, took it for historical fact, and named the civilization after the king: Minoan. The thing is, Minos is more likely a god than a historical king.

Of course, it’s possible that priests in ancient Crete took the name or title Minos when they took on certain governmental responsibilities. Some people call these men priest-kings, though I’m not sure the term is terribly accurate, since none of them ever ruled more than just a single Minoan city and its surrounding area; ancient Crete did not have a unified, island-wide government during Minoan times. And it’s probable that priestesses as well as priests took part in the governing of the temple complexes and the cities.